Remember Me?
by imdeadsothere
Summary: Ron wakes up in a hospital room remembering nothing but his own name. Slowly his family helps him try to put his life together, but something big is missing, and where does Harry fit in the picture? SLASH. ONE-SHOT. MINOR LANGUAGE.


Ron woke up in a white room remembering nothing but his name. At least he thought it was his name. He hoped it was his name.

"You're awake!" a large squeal caught him off guard as a plump healer rushed over to him.

"Oh, we thought you were never going to wake up, but you're up, can you hear me? Can you see me?" she asked rapidly, shoving her face into Ron's. Ron instinctively flinched and the healer pulled away.

"Oh, we have to call your family," she said excitedly, "they'll be so thrilled! How are you feeling dear? Are you alright? Too hot? Too cold? Are you hungry?"

"What's my name?" Ron asked quietly.

"I'm sorry dear, you'll have to speak a little louder," the healer said.

"What's my name?" Ron asked again, louder this time. The healer's face fell.

"Are you sure you can't do anything about it?" Mrs. Weasley asked fearfully.

"I assure you, we are trying everything, if there is a cure, we will find it, but please, be patient, at least he's alive."

Harry sat in the corner where he'd hidden himself, waiting to hear the footsteps that meant Mrs. Weasley had left. Visiting hours would be over in five minutes, but Harry had already bribed every healer on this floor to let him say an hour longer. He just had to wait for the Weasleys to leave. He couldn't let them see him.

A few more words were exchanged between Mrs. Weasley and the healer, and soon he heard their footsteps receding down the hallway. He waited a minute more before standing up. Peering around the corner, making sure the coast was clear, he made his way down the hallway.

353… 354… 355… there it was, room 356. Harry slipped inside. Ron was sitting up against the bed, staring at his hands. He didn't notice Harry come in.

"Hello Ron," Harry said quietly. Ron looked up. Confusion clouded his eyes for a moment before they cleared and Ron grinned.

"Harry!" he said, smiling at the green eyed boy, "you are Harry, right? I remember you!" Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. He'd been fretting over whether or not Ron would even remember him at all.

"How much do you remember?" Harry asked quietly, moving forward toward the bed.

"Not much," Ron said quietly, "I recognized my mum!" he said proudly, "but… but that's about it. I remember you too! But I don't know, why, or what, or who, I only know that you're Harry, and that you're my friend, right?" Ron looked up at him.

Harry smiled sadly.

"Yeah," he said quietly, "yeah, I'm your friend." And with each breath Harry's heart cracked a little more. So he really didn't remember.

"I should probably go," Harry said.

"Leaving already?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, visiting hours are almost over," Harry said.

"Oh…" Ron was silent for a moment, "will you come back tomorrow?" Ron asked.

Harry gave him a small smile, "of course," he lied.

"Good," Ron said, "you'd better come tomorrow," he said. Harry didn't reply. He just turned and left. Nearly running out of there, apparating home as soon as he could. He burst into tears in the entry hallway. But only he knew why. And unless Ron regained his memory, only he would _ever_ know why.

Ron sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at his breakfast.

"Ron, are you alright dear?" his mum asked.

"Yeah mum," Ron replied.

"How are you feeling today?" she asked.

"Why won't Harry come visit me?" Ron asked.

"Oh, Ronnie sweetie, I thought we talked about this already, Harry never came and visited you."

"Yes he did mum," Ron replied, "he came right after you left, and he said he was going to come back but he never did."

Mrs. Weasley sighed, not only had her son lost his memory, but he was remembering things that hadn't happened. She'd spent the last two weeks filling him in on everything, everyone pitching in a little, adding a detail here and there.

He said he could remember some of it, nothing clear, just fuzzy pictures and feelings. But it was a start.

"Mum, did I have a girlfriend?" Ron asked.

"Well you had Lavender," Mrs. Weasley said.

"No, you told me about her, I mean, anyone else, was I in any sort of relationship?"

"No sweetie, why?"

"Oh, I don't know, I just have this feeling that I'm forgetting something really, really important, that I'm missing someone really important but… never mind," Ron said quickly.

"Well, you were always interested in Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Oh," Ron said. Maybe that was it. But it still didn't feel right. It was like he knew there was someone that should be there, someone that wasn't around. But his mother swore that everything was just like it was, and that he hadn't been in any relationships after Lavender. So why did he feel like such a big part of his life was missing? And it wasn't just the amnesia, no, this was different. Something was definitely missing.

Harry still hadn't come to visit. Ron sat on his bed wearing his nicest shirt and holding a flower.

His mother had convinced him to ask Hermione out. He was supposed to do it tonight at dinner. She insisted that it would be a big step in putting his life back together. It had been four weeks since he'd woken up in St. Mungo's knowing nothing but his name. A few things had come back to him. He remembered people, and places, and names, but not what they meant to him.

Ron gazed sadly down at his flower, wishing it would wilt. He liked Hermione as a friend, but that was it. Everyone insisted he'd been head over heels for her, and that if he just got together it would put all the pieces back together, but he still felt too much like he was trying to force the pieces into all the wrong places.

Ron sighed, standing up. Might as well get this over with. He walked out of his room and headed down to dinner.

Six weeks. Six weeks that Harry had spent cooped up in his apartment pretending he didn't exist. Who knew something the Dursley's taught him would become useful one day.

And Harry was missing Ron like none other.

At first he cried, but now he just felt empty. He'd nearly gone to visit Ron a few times… a day… once he'd even made it out the door. But before he knew it he was back in the apartment throwing his shoes against the wall and cursing whatever Gods existed.

All this time, after all these years of him agonizing over a stupid boyish crush on his best guy friend, finally getting up the courage to tell him, finding out that Ron returned his feelings, and having everything going well for once in his life, only to have it all torn away from him in the blink of an eye.

He hadn't even gotten the chance to tell Ron he loved him. Not that it mattered anyway, Ron probably wouldn't remember it even if he had.

Harry curled up on his couch. He could still remember the day.

He'd gone to the store and gotten a tub of Ron's favorite ice cream, he was going to take it to him and they were going to sit around and watch Harry's favorite telly program and eat ice cream. He's shown up at the Weasleys' house, tub in hand, and gone up to Ron's room to pick him up so that they could head out together.

Instead he'd found Ron barely breathing, laying sprawled on his bedroom floor.

The ice cream had long since melted. He hadn't bothered to pick it up from where he'd thrown it when he'd gotten home that day.

Harry sighed. He hadn't talked to much of anyone except Luna. She'd been keeping him posted on Ron. Apparently Ron had asked Hermione out two weeks ago. Harry and Ron had never told anyone about their relationship, and so everyone assumed that Ron had still been smitten by Hermione. And Ron knowing nothing better had gone with it.

Reportedly they were very happy. Luna said it looked fake. But that could've just been Luna trying to make him feel better. Then again, Luna wasn't much for lying, even if it did make someone feel better.

But what did it matter anyway? Ron probably didn't even remember him.

"Ron are you even listening to me?" Hermione yelled.

"What? Sorry?" Ron looked up from the telly.

"What is it with you? You're so distant!" Hermione yelled.

"I've always been distant," Ron said quietly.

"Why did you even ask me out, it's clear you don't even _like_ me!" Hermione screamed.

"Because… everyone said I should," Ron replied honestly.

"That's all you have to say? I can't believe I wasted four weeks on you!"

Ron just shrugged and turned back towards the telly. He and Hermione had been fighting. And by fighting he meant Hermione had mostly spent the time yelling at him. He's mostly ignored her and watched the telly.

He didn't know why he liked the telly so much. He just did, it just felt so… familiar. He smiled fondly.

"Oh why don't you just go back to your precious _Harry_," Hermione spat. Ron hadn't stopped asking for him since the last day he saw him.

"I would but… I don't know where he lives," Ron admitted.

"Of course you don't, nobody does, because Harry's _gone_! He doesn't care about you or me or anyone, if he did he would've come and visited you, don't you think?"

"I'm sure Harry has his reasons," Ron replied.

"Ugh!" Hermione groaned, "do you always have to be so thick?"

"I am not… wait, this is Harry's favorite!" Ron said excitedly.

"Harry's favo… wait, did you just remember something?" Hermione asked, her anger quickly fading.

"Yeah, we used to watch it all the time, he would buy my favorite ice cream and we would sit in front of the telly and…" Ron trailed off.

"Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione called, "I think Ron just remembered something!"

"What?" Mrs. Weasley came rushing into the room, everyone within earshot a few paces behind her.

"What is it honey?" Mrs. Weasley asked, "what did you just remember?"

"Oh, I was just saying how this was Harry's favorite program," Ron said, motioning toward the telly.

"Tell the rest," Hermione said eagerly.

"And, and that we used to watch it, together, and he would always buy my favorite ice cream and…"

"And what?"

"And I don't remember," Ron said, "it's right there, I know it's right there, that stupid feeling that I've been agonizing over the answer is right there but I just can't…"

And everything clicked.

"Oh fuck," Ron said, "Harry." And with no further explanation he stood up and left.

Harry's favorite program was on. It had just come on. He didn't know why he still watched it. Probably out of nostalgia. It usually just made him feel bad. He missed Ron. A lot. He missed watching telly with him, he missed hugging him, he missed kissing him, heck, he even missed Ron's cooking. And that was saying something. Ron was a terrible cook. Harry let out a half choke half sob at the memory of when Ron had tried to cook for him and nearly set the building on fire. Oh what a night that was.

A hurried knocking against the door brought him from his reverie. Someone was visiting him? Luna had already been by earlier, and she didn't usually knock anyway. Harry pushed himself off the couch and walked into the entry hall. He walked up to the door and peered through the peep hole. It was Ron. Wait, how had Ron found him? Nobody except for Luna knew his address. Well, Ron had, but he'd forgotten it along with everything else. Did that mean? Harry unlocked and opened the door, peering through a small crack.

There stood Ron, breathless and looking like he'd run a mile. In his hands he clutched a tub of his favorite ice cream.

"Ron?" Harry asked quietly. Could it be that…? No, that would be too good to be true. It had to be something else, just a coincidence.

"I nearly forgot," Ron said, pushing the door open and stepping into the apartment, "your favorite program is on."

"Ron, do you… do you remember?" Harry asked quietly.

"I'm ashamed that I ever forgot," Ron replied, setting the ice cream on the counter, walking into Harry's kitchen as if he'd never left, and scavenging for some clean dishes. There were none of course. So he pulled his wand out and quickly spelled two bowls and two spoons clean.

"Ron what is going on?" Harry asked.

"C'mon," Ron said, quickly serving up the ice cream and heading over to the living room, sitting himself down on Harry's couch. Harry eyed him warily from the doorway.

"Come on Harry," Ron said, motioning towards the spot on the couch next to him, and holding out the ice cream. Cautiously Harry walked over, sitting down on the couch, taking his ice cream.

"There," Ron said cheerfully, "I think I got it all, no, wait, I forgot something else."

Harry looked down at the ice cream bowl, the spoon, the telly.

"No, it looks like you've got everything," he said quietly.

"Not quite," Ron said, and leaned forward and kissed him.

Harry promptly forgot to breathe. It seemed like forever before Ron finally pulled away, leaving Harry breathless with his mouth hanging open. Ron used his finger to gently close Harry's mouth.

"As much as I love you drooling over me," Ron teased.

"You mean, you really do remember?" Harry asked. Ron smiled at Harry, grabbing ahold of him and pulling him as close as he could manage.

"Everything," Ron said quietly.

A small tear slipped down Harry's cheek.

"Oh, don't cry," Ron said gently, wiping it away.

"It's just… I thought… I love you," Harry said, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck and burying his head into Ron's chest.

"I love you too," Ron said, holding Harry and letting him cry, this time now out of sadness but out of joy.

"But this time," Ron said quietly, "we tell _everyone_."


End file.
